


Stung Through The Heart

by EVRyderWriter



Category: Green Hornet (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EVRyderWriter/pseuds/EVRyderWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on 60s TV Green Hornet. Britt Reid takes a big step: fatherhood. Temporarily. For one week, Britt will host a brother and sister from the local orphanage. They, however, hold a secret just as dangerous as his. A collision course has been set.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Stung Through The Heart_

_“Another challenge for the Green Hornet, his aide Kato, and their rolling arsenal, the Black Beauty. On Police records a wanted criminal, Green Hornet is really Britt Reid, owner-publisher of the Daily Sentinel, his dual identity known only to his secretary and to the district attorney. And now, to protect the rights and lives of decent citizens, rides THE GREEN HORNET."_

\----

The rain fell in driving sheets. Lightning blazed across the night sky, searing it apart. Thunder rolled heavily over the city. No one in their right mind would want to be out tonight. Not if they wanted to swim home. The streets were all but deserted. The sidewalks were empty and the streets lights obscured by the storm. The city had suffered one of the wettest summers on record, this storm just another piece to the statistics. At least there was one consolation for the soggy, bedraggled and drowned state of the living---the criminal element was just as waterlogged as everybody else.

Even the infamous Green Hornet and companion, sporting that dangerous car of theirs, hadn’t been seen or heard of in weeks. Some wondered if he had been killed, or gone into hiding. However, he too, was just riding out the weather and hoping for sunnier days to come. Another bolt of lightening arched, illuminating the streets and buildings in an eerie blue-white aura. From one particular building, apartments in fact, a woman screams.

Glass shatters and furniture is thrown. A man’s angry voice punctuated by the sharp sounds of slaps. Another voice enters the fray, demanding him to stop, to leave her alone; a much younger voice. A child. A boy. The man shoves him aside, knocking something else over in the process. The woman retaliates. A mother’s love against brute strength is admirable, but completely lost on him. She is beaten down again. Again the boy rushes to her defense and again he is struck down. From out of this, another sound---gusty wails from a second child. A little girl.

Her loud sobs only enrage him more. He thunders through the small apartment to silence her but both mother and son grab hold to stop him. All three crash to the ground. Of course, the man is first up, kicking at the woman and boy. He’s clearly had enough. His two victims are laid out on the floor, too winded and battered to stand. The girl child is still wailing. He reaches for a tipped over desk. Wrenching the broken drawer open, he pulls out his last option. The last resort. The one thing he always threatened with but never used. Until now. His pistol is loaded and ready.

The woman is crawling to her feet, her head coming up slowly, carefully. Blood, sweat and tears run down her face. What little color she has, drains as her eyes meet the shaking barrel. She dares to look him in the eye, a plea on her lips. He only sneers. The dumb slut. The boy watches in terror, unable to scream, unable to defend, completely paralyzed. The gun’s muzzle flash, the crack of the bullet exploding forth. His mother falling. Bleeding. Dead.

Suddenly, the guns turning on him. He’s next. His mind screams “MOVE!” and he obeys. He lunges past the man, surprising him and runs into his sister’s bedroom. Locks the door. Little good that’ll do. He has just seconds. The girl stops crying, wide-eyed. Thundering footsteps outside the door. The gun blasting the lock. The door swings open. To an empty room, its single window wide open. The curtains flapping in the wind, rain on the sill and lightening in the sky.

\---

_A week later…._

“A party?! Aw, c’mon, Britt!” Mike Axford threw down his morning edition.

“No. I refuse! I hate parties. Anything but that---I’ll even do our Lonely Lover’s column! But NOT that. Never!”

His arms crossed his chest and his face set itself in an expression of pure, ornery determination. Britt Reid leaned back in his chair. One hand on his desk, the other under his chin. His mouth was set in a firm line while his aqua eyes stared at his senior reporter. The urge to run a hand through his short, brown-blonde hair was squashed.

“So. It’s a definite no, then Mike. You won’t do me this one favor?”

Axford’s arms flew apart. “No! And don’t try to guilt me into it!”

“Then don’t do it for me!” His voice changed to a more innocent tone. “Do it for the kids, Mike. Those poor, helpless kids….”

Axford’s face turned as red as his sparse hair. His arms went up in the air. “Bahhhhh! Shame, then? Shaming me into it. Dirty, lousy trick…! OKAY! I’ll…I’ll do it. I won’t like it, mind you.” He added, pointing at Britt. “But, I’ll do it.”

Britt’s handsome face blossomed into a megawatt smile. He stood and clapped the older man on the shoulder. “Thanks, Mike! I knew I could count on you!”

“Yeah, yeah…but on one condition!” Britt’s smile faltered just a bit.

“…What condition?”

Axford smile was just a sickly sweet as his voice. “You’ve got to buy me a tux!”

\---

Each year, the city’s orphanage--the State Home for the Lost and Orphaned--held a charity gala to raise money. The wealthy came out in droves to shower support and generous donations for the benefit of the residents and staff. Not only that, the guests had the option of sponsoring a child and then hosting them for a week. Another way to further the future of the home and its children while helping those same children see how it could be, might be. A life outside the walls with a family who loved and cared for them. The taste could be cruel, because when it was over, it was over. But the memories served as fuel to keep going, keep fighting, keep hoping.

Tonight was the glided event, held at the city’s Warner Hall and catered by the renowned City Club. The red carpet was rolled out, the awning spread above it and the newsmen fighting for position. Each limo that pulled up was greeted by rapid camera flashes, applause and not-so-subtle oohs and ahhs. Indeed, the women saw this gala as just another chance to show off their finery. And what finery it was!

Britt Reid’s black limo was towards the middle of the pack. He’d rented it for the night, with his own ‘after-party’ in mind. In the driver’s seat, as kind of an ‘inside joke’ between the two, was Kato. He was Britt’s valet, friend and partner in their Green Hornet exploits. He drove the Black Beauty as the Hornet’s masked companion. It was almost like a limousine itself. Hence his driving of the real limo; a sort of “If we can’t do one tonight, we can do another.”

They’d gotten a chuckle out of it, at any rate. Instead of his black chauffeur uniform he wore on other, unmentionable nights, he wore a white version. He kept his eyes frontward instead of his usually rearview mirror checks on his boss and the outside world while he drove the Beauty. In this case, he figured some privacy was called for---his boss had quite a lovely lady on his arm. He couldn’t recall her name…Kato knew she was some old college girlfriend back in town.

From the back, he heard the tinkle of her laugh. Of course. Crystal Monahan. That was her name. Kato allowed himself a peek--his boss was whispering in her ear. Her eyes danced, a hand on his knee, cheeks on fire. He put his eyes back on the road. A beauty, but then again, this was Britt Reid. Cameras were beginning to flash on the windshield. He pressed a button on his dash and spoke into the speaker. “We are nearly at the carpet entrance.”

Britt took his time answering. Eventually… “Thanks, Kato.” The valet closed the line with a smirk.

\---

Mike Axford, Daily Sentinel reporter and police hound, was the very definition of “fish out of water” this night. He tugged at his collar and fiddled with his black tie. He tried to remember the last time he felt so uncomfortable. He currently stood out on the red carpet of the venerable Warren Hall at the Charity Gala for the orphanage. Waiting, of course, for his dear old boss, Britt Reid. This was his fault, after all. If he hadn’t insisted, and cajoled and shamed him, Axford could be home, sleeping. Or, better yet, down at police headquarters. At least he’d be doing something useful! Instead of this! A charade! The camera flashes and jumbled voices were beginning to give him a headache. He was sick of pretending to care about the dresses and the jewelry; of jotting down stuff he knew didn’t matter. The indignation of the whole thing really burned him-- _the waste!_

Axford’s pencil broke in his grip and he realized his broiling temper was getting the best of him. After all, it _was_ for a good cause. He looked up at the next big cheer. Britt Reid stepped out of the back of a gleaming limo. On his arm, came one of the most gorgeous woman Axford had ever seen. Or had he? Seems to him he had, some time ago. But couldn’t remember when. Blonde hair, almost silver, swept up on her head. Tanned, flawless skin. A sapphire blue dress with matching gems in an earring, necklace and bracelet set. A quick glimpse of her ankles before she fixed her dress revealed blue and silver accented pumps. And her own vivid blue eyes never left Britt’s face.

They walked down the carpet, waving, greeting onlookers and reporters alike. Quite the handsome couple…enough that it set pens and pencils afire on the pads of reporters present. Axford closed his mouth in time for Britt to see him. Dressed to the nines in a tailored black tuxedo, he was dashing.

“Hello, Mike. Glad you made it. Erm…nice tux.”

Axford scowled. He turned to the lady, however, with a smile and a slight bow of the head.

“Hello, ma’am. I _think_ we’ve met. But then again….”

Britt chuckled and pulled her closer. She gazed longingly into his face, a warm smile all for him.

“You mean you don’t remember?”

“No. Sorry I don’t.”

Britt looked to her. “What do you think? Insult or not?”

She laughed, a very pleasing sound. “Oh, no. Britt, it was a long time ago.“

She looked back to Axford and extended her hand. “I’m Crystal Monahan. I went to college with Britt. We’re old friends.” Axford grasped the extended hand, realization dawning.

“Of course! I remember! You used to come over to the Sentinel all the time! Back when Britt’s father was still running it.”

“Yes! You do remember!” Britt looked behind him. A bunch-up was beginning to occur on the carpet. “Looks like we better go inside. We’re holding up traffic.”

\---

Little hands clutched other little hands. Small voices murmured. Heads hung low, nerves frayed, fear rising. They had been chosen, but would they do right? Would they get the prize of sponsorship? Or would they stay behind? Waiting for that day, if it ever came, that they were taken away from all this. It was more than enough to force tears and tantrums. Several nurses from the Orphanage were on-hand to calm and sooth while Mrs. Carter, the director of the Orphanage, kept a cool head.

She spoke to the Mayor, the Governor, to anyone who came to her. The children were just anxious. They all were. It was only natural---they ranged from fifteen to four in age. The fifteen year olds were sick of waiting and hoping only to have it all dashed on the rocks over and over. The four year olds were just bewildered and scared. This didn’t help the poor nurses as they too were on pins and needles. They wanted the best for the children. If this could help not only the chosen group but the rest of the Home? They would do all they could for that. But by the end of the night, tears would fall again, and dreams would fall apart. Sadly, not all of them would be sponsored--just a select few. They could only deal with that when the time came.

“Mrs. Carter?” The older woman was watching the gala from their designated waiting area, usually a ladies powder room. The younger voice that called her name from behind was one of her nurses. She closed the door and turned.

“Yes, Nurse Cameron?”

Nurse Jennie Cameron bowed her head, her hands folded demurely in front of her. Like the others, she wore her brown hair in a severe bun under her white cap and a cleanly pressed white uniform with the Home’s crest on the breast pocket. It only made her appear more innocent, more naïve. She was one of the new hires…not well-verse in the nuances of state work. Some of it would hurt, depress and frustrate. In the end, if she was made of the right stuff, she would feel it was all worth it. Tonight, however, would be among one of her many frustrations, and depressions. She would see children she had come to love crushed by the whims of those more fortunate. It would be a test in her ideals, her beliefs and her choice of employment.

“Excuse me, Ma’am, but…it’s John and little Mary. They say they won’t go out. John called it a circus and won’t have his little sister ‘paraded about‘.” A wry smile. “You know how…opinionated he can be.”

Mrs. Carter smiled knowingly. Yes. John and his little sister, Mary. He wouldn’t give their last names the night they came in. The night they came in….

Last week, during the worst summer storm, they had arrived. He was bloody and bruised, appearing as though he had been beaten quite horribly. His little sister, Mary, was dragged in behind him in complete shock. Wide, unseeing eyes…thumb in her mouth. John wouldn’t say and Mary couldn’t say what had happened. He wouldn’t even say their ages. Considering how they came in, the Home gave them the name of Waters until their situation could be straightened out, if ever. John was estimated to be around eleven or twelve while Mary a mere five year old. As to what happened--something had.

The cuts and bruises on John were just healing and Mary was still in a shell. Not speaking, her thumb stuck resolutely in her mouth. One thing was for sure: John was older and wiser beyond his years. His cynical view was something Mrs. Carter and her nurses had yet to see before. He could be biting, always speaking his mind. He saw his opinion as the only one that mattered, especially when it came to his sister. His protective nature towards her was unbelievable but incredibly touching. So why had they been part of the chosen group? Not only could a sponsorship and its increased public exposure help solve their case, but…this boy and this girl needed it. It was obvious the boy hadn’t had a male role model in his life, that he had to fend for himself and his sister alone. Mary could break her shell, she could. The nurses stayed with her everyday at the Home. They talked to her, played with her…but they were an old sight by now. Something new and bright would help.

“Does he, now? He was all for it just a few hours ago.”

“Yes, Ma’am, but…he says that if we try to force him…he’ll leave. And take his sister with him.”

Mrs. Carter took a breath and clasped her hands together. “Well. We’ll have to see about that.” “Yes, Ma’am.” The two walked to the back of the room. Away from the comfy cushions the children had taken a liking to. Away from the bright lights and large, dual mirrors, to a back entrance to the room. Seated against the door were John and Mary. He held her hand and stared straight ahead, eyes hard and cold. Mary’s thumb was even more firmly set in her mouth. Mrs. Carter motioned for Nurse Cameron to stay back while she went to them. John shifted his accusing gaze to her approaching figure.

“You can’t make us do this. We were chosen…we were volunteered for this. We can just as easily unvolunteer ourselves and leave.”

She regarded him coolly. “Yes. Yes, you could. But where would you go? What would you do? Despite your convictions of adulthood, you are a child. Even if you did get a job, however legal and honest it may be…what would happen to little Mary? Who would watch her, take care of her? Until we know or you tell us about your situation, you are to stay here. Here is your best chance, not out there. While you are here…you obey our rules, our decisions. You know this already, John. So. Our decision to make you and your sister a part of this group, to be given a chance not all have, is final. Do you understand?”

The boy’s unforgiving glare softened just to look to his sister. It returned when he looked back to Mrs. Carter. “For Mary. I’ll stay for her. But don’t expect anything more from me.”

\---


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

\---

Kato leaned against the limousine’s drive side door with his arms folded neatly across his chest. His face was a cool mask of impassiveness. He’d been approached by the other drivers, waiting just as he was, outside Warner Hall. They’d offered him a smoke by way of breaking the ice. They should have figured when he declined, that was a sign of total disinterest in conversation. Then again…they weren’t exactly a very open-minded lot. They asked him who he had driven and Kato offered Britt’s name and nothing more. He didn’t have to. It was enough of a starter for them to launch into the most recent gossip: Britt Reid was secretly married to some socialite from New York City; he was going to sell the Sentinel the second he got a good offer; this and that. Kato tuned them out completely.

Eventually they got the message and left him alone. He glanced up at the building, the piece of him that was Britt’s partner and enforcer/bodyguard while the two were masked acutely present in the back of his mind. No danger, he was fine, completely safe and having fun. He sighed. At least Britt was enjoying himself. They hadn’t been out in the Black Beauty in weeks. No need. The city had been quiet, too waterlogged and bedraggled to act up. He itched for action. Then he would remember their kind of action meant they were always one step closer to that time, God forbid it, when they wouldn’t make it home. It was a depressing thought, enough to make his mind whirl every time he hazard to even consider it. It was, unfortunately, central to their work. If they forgot how fragile life was, they could get careless, inviting deadly mistakes.

He cracked his knuckles. He and Britt had made it this far, injuries severe and not so severe not withstanding. Kato was keen to keep it that way. Let Britt relax, let him have his guard down just enough to have fun. Who knows, maybe the city had dried out enough. Maybe it was ready to wake up and start anew. After that, nights like this would be the thing of the past.

\---

Crystal Monahan felt like a princess this night. Dressed and bejeweled in luxury, dancing in the arms of her prince. Oh, she could go on like this forever. Britt Reid held her close as they gently swayed to the soft music. She took a deep breath and smelled his aftershave, a perfect blend that sent her spinning. She laid her head on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck with her nose. He smiled and looked down. “Tired?”

“No.” she answered breathily. “I’m not tired. I won’t allow myself to be tired. Not when everything is so perfect.”

Britt shifted his hold on her. “Having fun, then?”

“Of course.” She brought her head up.

Immediately, those intense eyes of his, colored like the sea, held her and wouldn’t let go. Not that she wanted that. She could stay locked within their gaze until the end of days and it still wouldn’t be enough. “Aren’t you?”

He brought her in close once more, his chin against her forehead. She felt him shrug. “I guess. You know me and how I am with big parties.”

She smiled. “Yes, of course. You would rather stay home, have a quiet, candle-lit dinner and listen to records while conversing in all things popular.”

“You make me sound like an anti-social intellectual, you know that?”

She laughed and further buried her head in his shoulder. The tuxedo did little to hide his broad back and chest. She remembered he’d always been fit when they were in college, but there seemed to be more of that quiet strength to him than before. He carried himself with far more purpose and duty.

“Come to think of it….” she murmured. “I wouldn’t mind a quiet evening at home. Not if it’s with you.”

He didn’t respond, he didn’t need to. She felt as thought he wouldn’t mind either, just by the way he held her, looked at her. She wouldn’t dare think of this night as anything more than two old friends reconnecting after a few years apart. She feared that if she hoped for anything more, it would all disappear. She became aware of another presence hovering over Britt’s shoulder and felt him look to see who it was. “Oh, Mike. It’s you. Didn’t see you come up.”

She picked her head off his shoulder. Leave it to Mike Axford, Britt’s resident news-hound, to ruin the mood. Oh, he was an endearing old soul with his determinedly Irish demeanor. She quite liked him, really. He just seemed to have a knack for showing up when least wanted.

“Yeah, sorry to bust in like this but I just got word they’re going to start sending some of the kids out.”

“Oh?”

Just then, the music hit its final notes while the lights came up. The guests clapped politely as they turned to watch the stage. An older woman, dressed conservatively in a blue skirt, black pumps and a white blouse, had appeared and was waiting for the guest to quiet. She had a sharp nose to match her hawkish, steel gray eyes. He gray hair was pulled back and pinned up off her thin face. When it was a quiet enough for her to speak, she did so in a surprisingly strong voice.

“Good evening, ladies and gentleman. My name is Margaret Carter, the Director of the State Home for the Lost and Orphaned. I wish to thank all of you for coming out tonight in support of my children and cause. Really, they are all our children, and the cause to find them good, nurturing homes ours to shoulder. Here, tonight, is a select group of those children. They are representatives of the hundreds we shelter, clothe and feed on a daily basis.

"They will be among you, mingling. So please talk to them, get to know them. Then, we will begin the signing of sponsorships. If any of you are interested in supporting an individual child or children through their time at the Home, please sign of sponsorship agreement. I will also remind you of this: should you become a sponsor, you will be allowed to host your chosen child or children for one week. I wish for you to keep that mind before taking this very important and generous step. Thank you.”

She walked off-stage and from the side of the hall, a door opened. A line of fifteen children walked single-file out onto the floor. They ranged from teenagers to small children, each with the wide-eyed look of nervousness and uncertainty. The older kids had a distinct weariness about them as they took the first steps toward the richly dressed strangers. They stopped and the younger ones flinched when these strangers began clapping.

For them? Why would they clap for them? Yet, as they looked around them, they saw no other reason why these people should be applauding. Small smiles and the relaxing of hunched shoulders went through the group. When the noise had subsided, they steadily dispersed through the crowd. Britt hadn’t noticed the crooked grin he was sporting until Crystal did and giggled.

“What?”

“The look on your face is priceless! You’d think you hadn’t seen a child before.”

“Oh. Well. Um…” He was saved by a short, but strong tug on his pant leg.

He looked down to see the biggest set of green eyes on the cutest red-headed doll. She was no more than seven, with dimples and freckles. Britt’s heart melted. He wondered how anyone could give up such an adorable child. He knelt and held out his hand. “Hi.”

“Hi.” she replied and shook his hand.

“I’m Britt.”

“I’m Bridgett.”

“Nice to meet you, Bridgett.” A brilliant toothy grin crossed her face and she shook his hand more vigorously . “Nice to meet you, Britt. That’s a funny name---you’re not a girl. Why would your parents name you that if you were a boy?”

He laughed out loud, a booming sound that turned a few heads. Crystal covered her mouth to stop from laughing as well. Mike still hovered, a goofy look on his face. This Bridgett girl was a kid after his own heart!

“I…I don’t know, Bridgett. That’s what they named me. Maybe they were hoping for a girl and got me instead. Had to name me something.”

The little child pondered his answered then shrugged. “Oh well. It’s okay. Just never heard a boy with a girl’s name.”

Britt swallowed another laugh. The girl suddenly turned solemn. “At least yours named you. Mine didn’t…the Home did. I was dropped off after I was born. They never could figure out who my parents were.”

She shrugged again. Britt’s brow furrowed and he put his hands on her shoulders tenderly. Her eyes met his and the thought of sponsoring this girl flooded his mind. He could, wanted very much to do so. Just as quickly as they‘d turned on him, those big eyes were torn over his shoulder. Bridgett stepped around Britt and waved to someone. He straightened to look over his shoulder…and saw a sight that more than shocked him. Bridgett gave him a sideways look and stopped mid-wave.

“What’s the matter? That’s only John and Mary. They’re new but…I think we’re friends.”

Still standing by the door they had come out of, were two children. One much older than the other. Boy and girl. The boy was at least ten years, the girl just about five. The haunted look in their eyes, especially the boy, grabbed his attention right away. It was a look of heartfelt fear, mistrust and most of all, anger. It roiled and boiled inside a person, burning the insides but turned the outside cold and hard. So hard, nothing could hurt anymore and so cold, no one could get close to cause pain. This boy’s eyes held it all. Britt remembered his look. He’d seen it before. On himself.

After his father’s betrayal and subsequent passing; after watching him fall and standing helpless to stop it. He’d held that look for anyone who dared try and help him. Britt eventually pulled himself out of it when the Green Hornet idea was born, but he would never forget it. He’d also never thought he’d see it again, especially on one so young. The little girl whose hand the boy held appeared shell-shocked, her eyes as big as saucers but unfocused. Her thumb was stuck in her mouth as she stared straight ahead. They were dressed as the others were: the boy in black slacks and a white polo and the girl in black flats, black skirt and a white blouse. Yet they weren’t like the others. The others didn’t look dead, didn’t look as though they’d lost their very soul.The girls didn’t look empty as this one did and no other boy had cuts and bruises about his face and arms.

“What did you say their names were again, Bridgett?” Britt finally managed.

“John and Mary. John’s so…I dunno. And Mary doesn’t do anything else except suck her thumb. But I talk to them. Don’t get any answers, really. Still, I think we’re friends.” she said with all the innocent surety of a typical child.

“Thanks.” He tousled her hair affectionately. “I’ll go over and see if I can’t get them to join us, okay? You stay here.”

He looked to Crystal and Mike before walking through the crowd to the two. He approached cautiously, trying to show he wasn’t a threat. Whatever had happened to these kids had been bad enough to turn them this way. He didn’t want them completely hardened against him and walk the other way before Britt could even utter a word. He noticed the boy’s gaze lock on him, assessing. He took a slightly more protective stance toward the girl and tightened his grip on her hand.

Britt knelt down on the boy, John’s, level and smiled in a friendly, non-confrontational way.

“Hey, I’m Britt.” he stuck his hand out. The boy only shot a look down at it then back at his face. Britt dropped it but pointed to the girl.

“This must be Mary.”

He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at Crystal, Mike and Bridgett, still out on the dance floor. No doubt watching the exchanged closely. “My friends and I were just talking to Bridgett. She told me you guys were pals. I thought you could come over and join us. I think Bridgett would like that very much. So would I.”

John looked over Britt’s shoulder sharply to Bridgett, who caught his eye with a wave. He sneered nastily. “Her? She’s not my friend. None of these brats are my friends. I just let her talk to me cuz she ain’t got nothing better to do. I figure if I tell her to shove off, I’ll get beef from the nurses and Director Carter over there. That’s the last thing I need.”

To say one could have pushed Britt over with a feather just then would have been an understatement. He was completely floored by the boy’s cutting remarks. He swallowed and attempted not to sound too shocked. “O-oh. I see. Um. Well…maybe Mary would like to come over with me.” Britt made his mistake of the night, when he reached for Mary’s hand. He hadn’t even come within an inch of her when John yelled and shoved him away, hard. Already on his hunches, the fall wasn’t too painful, but it still jolted Britt. The hall went silent and turned a bewildered eye toward the scene. Several nurses and Director Carter rushed over. Not far behind was Crystal, Mike and little Bridgett.

Britt felt the burn of embarrassment on his face, so it wasn’t a far stretch in feigning it for the sake of those watching. He laughed at himself and got to his feet without taking the offered assistance.

“Mr. Reid! Are you alright? What happened here?” Mrs. Carter demanded, shooting John a look.

The boy had backed away from all the excitement, his and his sister’s backs against the door to the room they’d come out of. His glare remained on Britt, daring him to blow the whistle. It would be just like an adult to screw a kid over. John had had it happen before, plenty of times. He should be used to it…but it still hurt.

“Nothing happened.” Britt said, waving it off. “I…must have put myself off-balance. I’d knelt down to talk to John and Mary here. When I went to get up, I went over backwards instead. I still can’t believe it happened.”

“But, I---we--heard John yell.”

“John yell?” Britt caught John’s eye and held it. “He probably did. Probably just as surprised as I was. It was nothing. Sorry to have caused a fuss. I’m fine, honest.”

It was evident that Mrs. Carter and her nurses didn’t believe him. Even Crystal and Mike looked uncertain but Britt’s laughing the whole thing off was enough to disperse the crowd . Little Bridgett took the opportunity to run over to John and attempt to hug him. “Oh, please, John! Be nice to Britt. He’s such a gre--”

“Shut up.” John snapped at her, pushing her away. Whatever she had wanted to say was replaced by a huff and a surprised, “Oh!”

“John! I warn you!” Mrs. Carter stepped up to grab his wrist forcefully but he pulled free.

Lanced each of the adults with the coldest stare Britt had ever seen a child muster.

“Leave me alone. All of you. I didn’t want to be here in the first place. I didn’t ask for this! So you can all go shove it!” He spun and pushed the door open, pulling his sister with him. It slammed in their faces. Mrs. Carter stepped up and rapped on the door insistently. “John! John, you open this door this instant! John…!”

She sighed and turned to face Britt and his two friends. “I’m really very sorry, Mr. Reid. John’s such an impetuous, willful child. Every effort has been given to him. He just refuses to let us help him.”

Britt looked to the door. “No. I think I can understand him.”

“Yes. Well. The sponsorship signing should be starting in a few minutes. Nurse Cameron….” She turned to address the young nurse still standing beside her. Britt was remised not to have noticed her before this. She was quite pretty in a doe-like way.

“Yes, Mrs. Carter?” Her answer was in quiet obedience.

“Try and see if you can do something about John and his sister. They respond to you best. I do need them out here…whatever good it will do.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Of course.” She nodded politely to Mike and Crystal, while her eyes lingered just a bit longer on Britt. She disappeared behind the door. Mrs. Carter smoothed her skirt and took hold of Bridgett’s hand. The child still fumed over her ’friend’s’ rebuke.

“Come, Bridgett. Time for the big event. My apologies again, Mr. Reid, for any upset John might have caused you. I hope you don’t think all our children are like that and sign a sponsorship tonight. Goodbye.”

She pulled a waving Bridgett with her as she made her way to the stage. Already, tables had been set up for the signing. Nurses from the Home were shuffling the paper agreements. Britt grabbed Crystal’s arm and followed the older woman’s path. She went but not without question. Mike took up the rear, also with a questioning look.

“Britt, why did you lie like that? That boy pushed you, didn’t he?” He kept walking, his eyes anywhere but her face. She pulled on him to stop and he did. Mike put on the brakes so he wouldn’t stumble into her from behind. “Didn’t he?” she repeated, her hands on his upper arm.

He sighed and looked to her. He saw her questioning gaze but also glowing understanding. “Yes. He did. But… something happened to that boy and his sister. Something that made them the way they are. Cold, hard, stuck in a shell. I had that same look when I lost my father. All he needs is for somebody to care. That’s all it took for me.”

And becoming a masked vigilante bent on taking the criminal element out of the city for good.

“So, what are ya saying, Britt?” Mike asked, coming around to face him.

“I’m saying I’m going to help him.”

“What?” Both cried at the same time. “I’m going to sponsor him and his sister. Remember how you said you’d rather do the Lonely Lovers column than this, Mike? Well, you’re going to eat those words. You’ve got your story right here and those kids are front and center!”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, they’re going to start the signing soon. I want you right up there, okay, Axford?”

“Yeah, sure. But---” Britt cut him off, turning to Crystal and taking her by the shoulders. He made sure she saw he was serious.

“I want you to do me a big favor. I want you to sponsor Bridgett.” Crystal was flabbergasted, pulling back on his grip.

“What? Britt, what is the matter with you? You’re acting so strange…! First you want to sponsor a boy bent on alienating everyone around him. Now you want me to be a sponsor? I have no time for a child!”

“Crystal, please! I was going to sponsor her. I don’t know how anybody could give up such a cute a kid, but I wanted her to have a chance. I can’t, now. Not with John and Mary. She’s a sweetheart. You’ll love having her around. It’s only a week, anyway. You can make time for her, can’t you?”

She silently searched his face, pondering what he had said. She finally nodded stiffly. “Fine. If it will make you---and her---happy.”

Britt smiled brilliantly and kissed her swiftly on the lips. When he suddenly pulled away and practically jogged toward the tables, she was left behind with her mouth open. Mike grinned and offered her his arm. “That’s Britt, for ya.”

“Yes. Quite.”

Mrs. Carter took the stage again and signaled the gathered crowd for silence.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please. The sponsorship signings will now beginning. Five of my nurses are set up at these tables to accommodate you, so do be patient. The children will be right in front of the stage here. Each have a name tag so you will be able to discern them. Give them the name of your child and they will set up the contract. A nurse will visit in the next day or two to discuss the formalities. Thank you.”

The crowd started buzzing as several people stepped up to sign. Britt was among them. He searched for John and Mary, but didn’t see them. Disappointed, he stepped back and brought Crystal up to the table. She gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t agree with this, but would do it anyway. She asked for Bridgett and the nurse quickly filled out the form.

“Sign here, please.” The nurse said, pointing to the bottom of the paper.

Crystal gave Britt another look before taking the pen and flourishing her name. By that time, Britt saw Nurse Cameron bringing the two wayward children back to the front. She smiled shyly when she saw Britt watching. He smiled back. He tried to give John a smile, too. The boy turned away, scowling. It was then that the thought of him making a mistake by doing this sprang up.

He had to believe it was right, that the newspaperman in him knew a story, knew something special when he saw it, wouldn’t fail them. Crystal held her copy of the contract in her hand. She touched Britt’s hand. “Well. There they are.”

“Yeah.” He watched Nurse Cameron pin nametags on their shirts and step back, smoothing John’s hear. He swatted her hand away. Britt stepped up to the table and took up a pen. Two tables down, Axford was interviewing some of the new sponsors.

“Would you like to become a sponsor tonight?” The nurse asked as a formality.

“Yes. I’d like to sponsor John and Mary.” He replied, his eyes firmly on the two. The boy’s face scrunched up in puzzlement. He pulled his sister closer to him when the nurse gave the contract to Britt for his signature. He gave it back and received his copy in return.

When Nurse Cameron received a handful of contracts, she was relieved to see John and Mary’s name on one of them. And Britt Reid’s signature on the bottom. Her face flushed, a completely unexpected reaction on her part. His name, to her, for not even knowing the man, was an assurance. That must mean something, didn’t it? That this needed to happen. She took John’s hand and wouldn’t let go.

“We’ve been sponsored, haven’t we.”

“Yes, John. You have.” The boy pursed his lips. Three guesses on who the sucker is. And the first two don’t count.

\---

Kato wouldn’t allow himself to doze or fall asleep completely like the other drivers. It wasn’t in his controlled nature to just drop out when there was a job to be done. So he was the first to alert on the gala’s breaking up. The gaggle of reporters taking the steps two at a time was a promising sign. When they held their cameras ready for shooting, shouting and calling for the not-yet visible partygoers to turn this way or that, it was certain.

Finally, their targets appeared and their voices rose. Kato automatically narrowed in on the sight of several new guests, ones that hadn‘t arrived in the beginning. Young ones. Some of them mere children. His brow relaxed as he remembered the big attraction of the night was the sponsorship signing and then the subsequent hosting of the chosen child. He was a little taken aback to see Britt’s date, Crystal Monahan, with her own little sponsor in tow. The woman was a beauty, known for extravagance…but motherly intuition?

Well….

She stopped to pose for the cameras, allowing them to get several pictures of her new little friend. The girl was a cute redhead totally enthralled with the bright surroundings. The other children, he saw, held the same awed-struck expression. Odd, though. He didn’t see Britt. He saw Mike Axford, though. Trying desperately hard to keep up with the younger, sprier reporters.

Ah. There was Britt. Stranger still, he was hanging back; not trying to catch up to his date or Axford, both of whom had cleared the stairs.

“Kato!” He looked away from Britt, to Crystal, as she approached the limo.

“Ms. Monahan.” he answered crisply.

A small giggle came from the little figure beside her. Kato looked down at her, eyebrows raising. The girl had such large green eyes.

“You talk funny.”

Normally, Kato would have been peeved but this time? He could only smile wider.

“Who is your cute friend?”

“Kato, this is Bridgett. Bridgett, this is Kato. He’s Britt’s friend, too.”

She giggled again but held out her hand. “Another funny name. You and Britt both.”

His gloved hand dwarfed hers, which was quite an accomplishment for him as he wasn’t the biggest of men. Crystal chuckled and held her closer to her side.

“She’s made quite a few friends to night. Haven’t you, Bridgett dear.”

“Mmmhmm! But I like Britt best.”

“And he’s charmed another!”

Kato smiled but he’d gone back to looking for Britt, concerned. Could something be wrong?

“…Are you looking for Britt?”

“Yes, I am.”

“He’s coming. Slowly but surely. He can’t go too fast or he’ll lose his new friends.” He noticed her wry tone.

“What do you mean, ‘new friends’?”

“This was all Britt’s idea. Me sponsoring Bridgett. She is such a darling but….” She looked down at the child. “I was so ill prepared. You know how infectious Britt’s enthusiasm is. So…here we are.”

Kato stepped up on the sidewalk and stood next to her, watching Britt descend the stairs slowly, stopping every few feet to turn around and raise his hand encouragingly. Most of the others were already gone or just departing in their own limos. Even Mike had disappeared, running off with the other newsmen. Quiet was rapidly descending. Kato excused himself from Crystal and went to the steps, his left foot on the first step and leaned forward. Britt turned from the middle steps and waved to him.

“Don’t worry, Kato. I’m coming.”

“Take your time.” He shot back.

The lights illuminating the front of the Warner Hall where suddenly shut off and Kato heard Britt say, “They don’t waste any time, do they? Come on, John! Mary!”

Kato squinted. John? Mary? He could make out small outlines shuffling down the steps. Their hands were intertwined, one leading the other. He mounted the steps further, all the way to Britt. His boss grinned at his confusion. “I thought you’d be confused. Honestly, I took myself by surprise. But…I had to do it.”

“Do what?” The small outlines melted into full-form. So sullen, so mistrusting, so angry. The eyes so empty of emotion, except cold anger. The thin bodies clothed by cheap uniformed fabric. Their hands held so tightly, as if that alone would protect them. The thumb stuck in the mouth, an obvious habit. The cuts and bruises…physical harm to cover whatever evident mental and emotional hurt had been done.

“Sponsor these two. Kato, meet our weeklong houseguests: John and Mary.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

_\---_

Dawn had barely broken over the city. Few people went about their ways at this hour; few cars ambled along the streets. In the city’s ‘Red Light District‘, the infamous West Side section where the Green Hornet and the likes of him wandered freely, the bars were emptying from the previous night. The Side Street Bar, aptly named for its position on the very first side street of the district, had had a particularly heavy crowd. Its regulars, most still stumbling drunk, piled out to get on with their day.

For many, that constituted picking up where they’d left off. Two men, however, walked against the crowd, into the bar. They were polar opposites in an almost comical sense. One was much taller, and strongly built. His shirt and jacket struggled to cover his large body. His outfit and rugged appearance lent credence to his reputation as a brawler and part time dockworker.

His smaller companion was stick thin and anemic looking. His sunken, shifty eyes and grimy appearance made his nickname “Dirty Rat” seem all the more proper. They took up two stools at the bar and ordered coffee with whiskey shots. When it was served, Dirty Rat hastily poured the liquor into the black coffee and swirled. He held it in both hands, drinking as if he had craved it. He set the empty cup down on the bar with a sigh and wiped his mouth on the back of a cruddy sleeve.

“So?” The much larger man prompted. Dirty Rat brought his eyes up to his but immediately dropped them.

“Um…erm…I--I--I checked and…and…and….” He stammered, grimacing as his nervous habit kicked into high gear. He took a deep breath and began again. “I checked and everybody that was home that night either kept to their story of not hearing anything or…or…or still decided that they didn’t hear anything. You know….”

“Good.” The big man motioned for the bartender to refill the man’s cup. Dirty Rat nodded gratefully and drank this one in the same hurried manner. “What….what about y--y--you, Jack?”

Jack Reed, the big man, shrugged. He finally took a sip of his coffee. “Nothing.”

“N-n-nothing? Ha! Wh-what do you think that m--m--means?”

“I dunno. It was raining hard that night. Could have easily been run down by a car or gotten lost. All I care is they stay lost.”

“But…if th-they don’t?” Jack shrugged again and his lips curled in a sneer. “Then I’ll take care of it.”

“Y-Yeah, Jack. Sure.” Jack raised his finger to the bartender once more. “Ya got the morning paper?”

“Sure, Reed. Got it right here.” The paper was plopped down in front of him. Today, it was the Daily Sentinel. The front page was taken up by a report on last night’s Charity Gala for the benefit of the local orphanage. The article, written by a guy named Axford, was accompanied with a large, black and white picture of a rich dame named Crystal Monahan.

Dirty Rat had been reading over his shoulder and let out a low, appreciative whistle for the woman. “W-wow. Quite the…the dish, Jack.”

“Yeah. She is.”

“Who’s the kid with her?” Reed read further, skimming. “Looks like she bought the kid or something. It’s called sponsoring.” He folded the paper and tossed it back on the bar, disinterested. He took up his coffee cup and drank.

Dirty Rat looked skittishly between Jack and the bartender before snatching the paper for himself. Jack gave him an annoyed look, then drained the rest of the cup. He tossed coins on the counter, enough to cover their drinks and the paper before motioning Dirty Rat it was time to go. Out on the sidewalk, Jack shoved his hands in his jean pockets and looked behind him as Dirty Rat bumbled and stumbled his way along while keeping his nose buried in the paper.

“Forget it, Rat. No ritzy dame would ever fall for a scumbag like you.”

“I-I-I c-c-can re-re-read, can’t I?” He shot back defensively.

“Sure.” Jack stopped at the corner to cross the street, knowing better to just cross when he wanted to. He’d done that before, against the light, and almost been run down. He had to put his arm out to stop Rat from doing the same thing. “Watch it!”

Rat stumbled backwards but he didn’t take his eyes off the paper. Jack scoffed and grabbed at it. “Give me that damn paper!”

“N-no! Jack…! Wait, I saw something! At the bottom of the article.”

“What? Look, the light’s gonna change. If it’s about that woman, I’m not interested.”

“No, it-it-it’s not. L-look.” Jack unfolded the paper and let Rat skim the article. He pointed when he found it.

“Here. H-here it is. ‘A-among the other s-sponsors of the night, the owner and publisher of this paper, Britt Reid, took the responsibility of two children. A brother and sister named John and Mary‘--.”

The color drained in the Jack’s face and snatched the paper to read for himself. “…‘Took the responsibility of two children. A brother and sister named John and Mary…Waters.’” The paper folded involuntarily in his hands. Waters.

“It’s not them.” He shoved the paper into Rat’s chest. He caught it and had to run across the crosswalk to catch up to Jack.

“But you didn’t read the rest!” Jack stopped suddenly on the opposite sidewalk and spun around. Dirty Rat pulled up short. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down nervously. “What do you mean, ‘I didn’t read the rest.’? Their last names weren’t Waters. It was Clarkson.”

“B-but that d-don’t matter! Jack, the-the article g-goes on to say tha-that the boy and girl were new to the orphanage and that the-the boy had been b-b-beaten!”

Jack snarled and tore the paper from his hands. He crumpled it up and tossed it in the gutter. He advanced on Rat and tugged him closer by the collar. “Drop it!” He shoved the man away from him and turned on his heel. Dirty Rat swallowed and ran a hand over his face. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered with Jack Reed. But then again, who would pay for his coffee and whiskey?

“J-Jack! Wait up!”

\---

John woke with a start. His eyes blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the sleep. He sat up quickly, the pillow falling off his head to the floor. This sure as heck wasn’t the orphanage! The bed was too comfy, the sheets too soft. The room too well decorated, too well kept. He was in somebody’s home, in their bedroom.

He suddenly remembered his sister and a flash of panic gripped his chest. He looked beside him and saw her small form curled up, asleep. The panic released him. Well then. What goes on here? …Oh yeah.

He ran his hand through his hair; rubbed his eyes and yawned. Last night, the Charity Gala. All the rich people. The sponsoring. Then that dope, what’s his name?

Britt Reid.

The guy tried to grab his sister’s hand. Bad move. He deserved the shove he got. Everybody converging, glaring at him. John’s eyes narrowed. But then that Reid guy surprised him. Not only did he keep his mouth shut and not blow him in…he sponsored them. Him and sister. Crazy. What was his angle, huh? Couldn’t figure it out….

His nose caught a mouthwatering whiff. Bacon. Eggs. Pancakes! His stomach growled at him to get up and moving. He quietly hopped out a bed, almost stumbling on the oversized men’s shirt he must have been given it to sleep in. He walked toward the door and pushed it open. It was a wide open apartment that became study/living room with a kitchen and bathroom across from him. He saw he and his sister had a guest bedroom, while the actual bedroom was next door.

John padded softly across to the kitchen and peeked in. A smaller man, dressed in a white and black server’s outfit, had his back to him at the stove. His stomach growled again. He grimaced and held his abdomen, as if to quiet it. The man heard and glanced to the doorway. “Good morning.”

John took a step forward. He remembered that guy. Kind of. Mostly his accent. Asian.

“Erm….hi. Thanks.” He walked in, cautious. Hesitant to let his guard down in this strange environment, with this Asian guy who he could only guess was like a servant or housekeeper. However…the guy did seem nice, he wasn’t going to attack him, belittle him. In fact, this man was already back to cooking, completely ignoring him. John found there was a small dining area in the kitchen and took up a chair. He sat perched on his knees, elbows resting on the table.

“Um…” he started. “What’s…your name again?”

“Kato.” “Oh. I’m…I’m John.”

“I remember. You didn’t say much last night but I did get your names.” John nodded, looking around, not in awe but…well, okay, in awe. From where he was from, they never had a home like this, let alone a kitchen so well stocked and so well-kept.

“Um…are you…like the housekeeper or something?”

He heard Kato chuckle. “Or something. Mr. Britt is usually very busy at the paper. He doesn’t have time to worry about how he lives. I kind of take care of the place for him, make sure he doesn’t forget about himself.”

“So…are you friends?” “Yeah. I’d say we were friends.” Kato turned with a plate full of breakfast and brought it to the table. He set it down in front of John.” “Oh….”

“I thought you were hungry?”

“Oh, I am but…What about Mr. Reid?” Kato smiled.

“Mr. Britt doesn’t usually get up until around eleven. I made this for you.”

“How’d you know I’d be getting up?” The man shrugged and went back to the stove to clean up.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I already did.”

John speared several sausages with his fork and shoved them in his mouth. Kato brought him a glass of orange juice. He half-downed it in one gulp. The man stepped back, eyeing him with veiled sympathy. John’s temper flared suddenly, resenting it. Nobody should feel bad for him! He didn’t need it! He chewed slower and leveled a disarming glare so the guy would look away. When he finally did to put the juice back in the refrigerator, John went back to concentrating on eating.

“Where are you from? I mean…your accent and all that…..”

“I’m Chinese.”

“Oh.” He wanted to ask him about his family. If John couldn’t even tell him about his then what was the point?

“How’d you…you come to work for Mr. Reid?”

“Long story.”

Okay. The guy could play it like that. He wasn’t really interested anyway.

“Well, um. What’s this Reid like, anyway?” Kato looked to him, clearly surprised. He’d never heard a boy so young, sound so old and jaded. Looking for angles and bad deals where there weren’t any. Like a burned adult.

“He’s a very honorable man; a good man. He only wants to help where he can.”

Mmmm, straight enough answer. Of course, this Kato would say anything for his boss. Simply because his living depended on it!

“So, what he’s doing for me and Mary isn’t some run-around bit? It’s for real?”

Kato nodded his head. “No run-around.” John took another bite of his pancake, drowning it in more syrup. Syrup…real maple syrup! He hadn’t had it in ages. Come the think of it, he hadn’t had orange juice or pancakes or…a breakfast like this… in ages. He felt a tendril of guilt whip the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be asking if this Reid guy meant to do him wrong in the end. He should be just plain grateful.

From the door way, the both heard a large yawn and somebody cracking some body part to wake up. John watched Britt Reid tromp in, wearing blue pajama shirt and pants.

Kato’s eyebrows raised, bemused. “You’re up early. It’s only….”,he checked the time on the wall clock. “ Nine.”

“Oh, I thought it was later. I mean, it smelled so good out here…!”

He sat next to John at the table, smiling. “Morning, John. Sleep alright?”

“…Guess so.”

“Sorry about the night shirt. By the time we got home, you and Mary were about ready to collapse so we just made do. We’ll fix things up a little better tonight, I promise.”

John didn’t respond, just went back to eating. He failed to see the small shrugs that passed between Kato and Britt. He ate the rest of his breakfast in silence, Britt passing in and out of the kitchen to get his coffee and cereal. When he came back the last time, he was pulling on his dress shirt. John caught the scar in a passing glance.

“How’d you get that?” Britt stopped shrugging on the shirt and looked at him, puzzled.

“Get what?”

“That scar. On your left shoulder. How’d you get it?” His arms lowered and the shirt settled into place. His fingers were busy buttoning.

“Oh. That.”

“Yeah.” Britt saw Kato looking at him, waiting to see how he’d explain it. He couldn’t tell him it was left over from being shot while as the Green Hornet.

“It’s, um, a birthmark. I’ve always had it.” “

A birthmark?”

“Yeah.”

John hopped off his chair and walked passed Britt, back to his room. Britt turned to see him shut the door. He looked back to Kato, who was refilling Britt’s coffee cup.

“Well, what else could I tell him? I was shot running out of a jewelry store as the Green Hornet?”

“Why not? It‘s the truth. And he wouldn’t believe you anyway.” Kato handed him his cup and went out into the living room to retrieve Britt’s dress shoes. Britt followed him out and went to his room to grab a tie.

“Did you try talking to him?”

Kato nodded, standing back with his arms folded thoughtfully across his chest. “Yes. Quite a boy. Too old for his years. Everything, to him, has to have an angle to it. He can’t understand you did what you did just to help him. He wanted to know what I thought of you, among other things.”

“Oh? And what did you tell him?”

“That you were a good man.”

Britt smiled and finished doing his tie. “Thanks, Kato.” The door opened and John reappeared. This time, fully dressed and with his sister in tow. They both wore their old Orphanage uniforms. Britt looked to Mary, hoping to see a smile without a thumb in the way. He was disappointed. The thumb remained, as did the blank stare. Britt approached slowly to kneel. His look told John he wouldn’t try to reach for her.

“Hello, Mary. Did you sleep well?” There was no sign of recognition or forthcoming response. John scowled and pulled her to his side so they were touching.

“Look, she’s not going to talk, okay? And she doesn’t have to, either! So leave her alone. And don’t ask if she wants breakfast.” His eyes flickered to Kato. “She doesn’t eat breakfast, never has.”

Britt sat back on his hunches. It was going to be a grand day…. “I see. Well, we should be going.”

Britt straightened and put on his suit coat. He drained the rest of his coffee and grabbed his suitcase. “Where are we going?” John asked, suspicious.

“The Daily Sentinel. Ever wonder how a newspaper is run?”

“Not really.”

Britt smirked. “Still, I think you’ll find it interesting. Besides, people will want to meet you.”

John wrinkled his nose. “Fine.”

Kato got the door for them. Britt waved to him as they left. The valet closed it behind them; shaking his head and silently wishing the man all the luck for the day.

\---

Mike Axford handed her the morning paper, as if she hadn’t already seen it. All the girls were ogling it. Why? Because She was on the cover. Britt Reid’s Ice Queen come back to rule her kingdom. If they expected her to break down right there, it wasn’t going to happen. Honestly, she didn’t know what they had expected. Sure, it was rumored she carried a blazing torch for her boss but…they didn’t need to know that was the truth, did they? She wasn’t about to prove it for them.

“Well, Casey?”

Lenore “Casey” Case, Britt Reid’s secretary and confidante, looked up quickly from the picture.

“Pretty picture, Mike. I like it.”

“Oh, well. The picture practically took itself. I mean, with such a pretty lady!” Axford was going to continue his gush. Then he saw Casey put the paper down. He stopped.

“What’s the matter, Casey? You don’t look well.”

Casey stood and stepped around her desk. The day before, after Britt Reid had left the office for the day, she did too. Early. Went to her favorite shop and treated herself to three new outfits. Why? Because deep within her, a well of burning jealousy erupted. She knew it was silly to feel that way. She held the upper hand on all her bosses conquests, with her knowledge of his Green Hornet secret. She knew their relationship was special, no definition could be placed on it. In his way, he cared for her. When she had been in danger for one reason of another, he’d rushed to the rescue, prepared to do what he could to protect her. In her own way, one she kept to herself, she loved him.

Could she ever tell him that? Probably not. She’d be afraid to. No matter what they shared, she couldn’t help but feel inadequate when it came to the beauties Britt liked to have hanging off his arms from time to time. Wealthy socialites and heiresses…self-made women. It was probably the money issue and the fact they had access to the levels of society she‘d never reach. The least she could, the bare minimum, was to look good and grab the attention any attractive woman was due.

“I don’t? Well, I don’t know why. I feel just fine.”

The sarcasm was clearly missed. “Maybe you should ask Britt for some time off, relax. Take care of yourself.”

She smiled and patted Axford’s hand. “You’re sweet to worry about me. I’m okay, I promise.” He appraised her, maybe trying to figure out if she looked different. He shook his head in defeat. Nope, couldn’t figure it out.

“You know, Casey…you should have come along with me last night. Having a good time would have done you good, I think.”

She laughed out loud, imagining herself at such an event. More than that, imaging seeing Britt with Her. No. Never. She had gone out with Britt as his date for other parties but never for a gala. She wondered what it would be like to be the center of attention. The ‘It’ girl--Britt Reid’s date. It would be too much for her. She’d end up asking to leave early, she knew it.

“Oh, Mike! I didn’t have anything to wear! Besides, you never asked me.” She gave him a coy look and he blushed. “No, erm. I…I didn’t, did I? Well…I wasn’t even going to go, you see.”

“Ohhhhh yeeeees. Now I remember. Was that you putting up such a big fuss in Mr. Reid’s office yesterday?”

“A big fuss? Well, I…wouldn’t exactly say that! I mean, after all, I did come through for Britt.”

She laughed, gentler this time. “Oh, Mike. You’re really something.”

He waved her off and turned to leave the office. He halted when he caught sight of the newsroom through the windows. “What the…!”

“What’s the matter?”

“…Look!”

She stepped next to him. Britt Reid was strolling toward his office, his hand loosely holding that of a sullen-faced boy. The boy, in turn, held the hand of a small girl, unseeing, unaware of those around her. She sucked contently on her thumb. “He’s here early.” Axford finally commented.

Casey rolled her eyes at his choice of observation and went out to meet him. When she reached him, Britt was introducing the two to several interested employees. Most were women, oohing and cooing. The boy was clearly disgusted with it all. Casey couldn’t blame him. They were putting it on pretty thick. Britt’s face lit up when he saw her. “Hello, Ms. Case.”

“Mr. Reid.” she tipped her head to him politely. “You’re certainly here early.”

“So I’ve been told. It’s going to be a busy day. Might as well start bright and early.”

He looked down to the children and pointed to Casey. “John, Mary…this is Ms. Casey. She’s my secretary. Ms. Case, this is John and Mary.”

She smiled down at them, hoping they’d smile back. The boy offered her a faint upturning of the lips. His eyes bore into hers, almost disconcertingly so. Mary, however, made no response. “You’re quite the story around here.” she said to them. “I’m sure everybody will come to meet you throughout the day. We’re certainly glad to have you.”

“Thank you, Ms. Case.” The boy said quietly. “Call me Casey. All my friends do.”

“Okay, Casey.”

The response was in the same quiet, hesitant voice. She smiled to Britt. “Well, that was easy.”

“Shall we see my office?” John shrugged and took his sister with him as they went.

\---

She was so pretty. Pretty like his mother had been. The golden blonde-red hair that shined. Her fingers were slim and long, nails painted a pale pink. He bet they were gentle too…never raised to hurt or slap. Just like his mother. Her eyes laughed when she laughed. Genuine kindness in her smile and voice. Just like his mother. He suddenly felt like crying; like running to a far corner to curl up and die in.

His mother had been so pretty, so kind. She never meant any harm. She only wanted love. She gave so much to him and Mary. She only wanted some in return. Oh, how he missed her! He found his hand tightening on Britt’s hand reflexively. It was a big hand, gentle too. But it wasn’t his mothers. He loosened his grip again. They could never know what was in him, or his sister. It was his to carry, not theirs. They’d never understand what it was like to know your mother died for you…and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

\---

Casey stayed with them in her office while Britt went to his to go over the papers left to him. She tried talking to John, getting a mumbled sentence here and there. One word answers other times. Even a full-fledge smile when she told a joke he hadn’t heard before. Mary was still untouchable.

“Would you like to look around?” She finally offered. “It might not look like much up here, but once you get to the lower floors…it’s pretty impressive.”

John bit his lip and looked to Mary. It wouldn’t matter if they walked around a little more. He would even try to have a good time. Besides…it was Casey asking. Already he felt he would do anything for her. Just like he tried to do for his mother.

“Okay.” He consented, nodding. “I guess we could.”

She smiled. “Good. Let me just tell Mr. Reid, first.”

Then…she did the one thing John would fought tooth and nail against if it were anybody else. She touched Mary. Not only that…she picked her up. John’s hand slipped out of his sister’s as she was lifted. He watched mildly, not making a single move to stop her. Right then, it wasn’t Casey standing there, holding Mary. It was his mother. So beautiful, dressed so prettily. A smile on her lips as she brushed a stray hair off the child’s forehead. She looked to John and held out her other hand to him. He took it readily. And dipped his head to hide the growing tears. They were wiped away discreetly by his sleeve.

She had to let go to open Britt’s office door. When he looked up and saw Casey holding Mary and John standing next to her, completely docile, he stood quickly. His mouth hung open and his eyes were wide enough for Casey to take notice and giggle.

“What’s the matter, Mr. Reid?” She teased gently. “You looked surprised. They’re very easy to get along with. I think we’re friends.”

She smiled down at John. “What do you think? Friends?” He nodded.

Britt closed his mouth and swallowed. His eyes blinked rapidly as he relaxed and regained composure. “It’s…it’s just that I’ve been trying to get near Mary since I first saw her. I haven’t been able to.”

“Women’s touch, I guess.”

“I guess.”

“Anyway, I was just going to take them for a little tour. If that’s okay with you?”

He motioned out toward the city room. “Of course. I meant to do it myself later. I’d appreciate it.”

“Good. We’ll be back.”

They disappeared back to her office and then out beyond. Britt sat down in his chair. He shook his head and pulled himself closer to the desk. John would push him to the ground rather than let him touch Mary. Yet, he talks with Casey for a little less than an hour and allows her to not only touch Mary, but carry her around. He couldn’t understand it.

….And was that a new outfit Casey had on? He thought it was. He liked it.

\---


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

On the street below, at the Daily Sentinel’s curbside, a long white convertible pulled up. Its uniformed driver got out and went around the back to open the door for the passengers. Two women and a small girl were in the back, but only one got out. Crystal Monahan’s long legs were the first thing any man would notice, and as she stepped out, several such passersby kept their eyes glued as they walked on. Dressed in a flowing, yet form-fitting white sundress, she commanded attention. Her wide-brimmed, cream-colored hat with a black ribbon wrapped around its top, oversized sunglasses and handbag and black pumps had been carefully selected and were the latest in fashion. She motioned for her fellow passengers to stay put and went through the wide doors of the Sentinel.

Those in the lobby immediately turned to look upon the new visitor. She strode confidently, head held high, toward the elevators. Several people recognized her and nodded or muttered their greetings. She returned in kind. Once aboard, the other riders made room for her. Nodding politely, they backed away and she heard them murmuring. The men about whatever men mutter when in the proximity of a pretty lady and the women gossiping up a storm. She ignored them. When the elevator pinged its destination, her floor, she didn’t look back as the rest disembarked.

The city room was buzzing as they prepared for the evening edition even though it was even noon yet. It quieted as she walked toward Britt Reid’s office. When she entered the outer office area of his secretary, Crystal heard the buzz renew itself. Naturally. She stopped to look around. The secretary wasn’t in, but she saw a purse hanging on the hat and coat rack beside the desk. It was a neat and tidy area. The typewriter sat, waiting. Paper was primed and ready. She dragged her finger across the desk top. Spotless. Through the glass to the other office, she saw Britt deep in conversation with Mike Axford. Well, considering how man times he had busted in on her and Britt the night before, she could afford to do it once herself.

Knocking first, she opened the door swiftly, catching the last of their conversation. “…if it can help them, I’ll do it.” Britt’s eyes went over Axford’s back and widened. He stood and went around his desk. “Crystal! What are you doing here?”

She took his hands and held them tightly, playfully pulling his arms apart. “Surprise!” she exclaimed brightly. “I called your apartment but Kato told me you’d already left for the day. Since when did you get to the office by nine? Anyway, I told him I’d meet you here and…here I am!”

“That’s odd. He didn’t call to tell me.”

“ I know. I told him not to. I wanted it to be a surprise!”

“Well, it was.” Axford cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.

“Oh, Mike!” She went to him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“Erm. Thank you, Ma’am. I’ll be leaving now.” She patted him lovingly on the cheek and he left in a hurry. They shared a laugh for him. “What a dear old soul.”

“I wouldn’t know what to do without him.”

“Well, today, that’s exactly what you are going to do. Be without him or anybody else here!”

“What do you mean?”

Crystal led him back to his desk. He leaned against the front of it and let her take a seat in one of the guest chairs. “I want to take you and the children out for the day. Shopping, lunch…whatever else you want to do. Oh, Britt---you need to have some fun once in a while! Stuck up here, in this stuffy old office for hours on end….”

He raised an eyebrow. His office wasn’t exactly stuffy and nobody could ever accuse him of not having a good time. When he could, he’d go out and let loose. In the strictest sense of the term ‘loose’, however. When he was a teenager and college kid, it wasn’t always so. But that was before his father’s demise, before he had to take the reins at the paper and of course, before the Green Hornet. One could say he grew up quite suddenly.

“Crystal, I want to thank you for your…concern?…about me but, I’ve got a lot of work to do today and---” She cut him off with a dismissive wave. “I won’t hear it!”

She had that pout of hers going now. No one could ever really say no to her. Quite honestly, Britt was sure no one ever had. She stood and went to him, her hand gently resting on his chest as she gazed up at him. “Last night was a night I won’t forget.” she began softly. “For a short, but sweet, time…I had you all to myself. You don’t know how much that meant. I…didn’t quite get that quiet evening home with you afterwards so….” she shrugged daintily, a certain spark in her eye as she leaned in to kiss him.

From out in Casey’s office, Britt heard loud voices approaching his door. He pulled away from Crystal at the last second. Casey came in without knocking, preoccupied with talking to John and still carrying Mary. John noticed Crystal first and his mouth clamped firmly shut. Eyes narrowed suspiciously and he took a more resolute stance next to Casey. Casey noticed John’s sudden change and she too, stopped in her tracks when she saw them. She realized she was staring quite dumbly at the woman and an awkward silence was building.

“O-oh, excuse me, Mr. Reid. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize….”

Crystal’s face lit up as she recognized the voice and reach out to Casey, arms wide open. “Lenore, darling! Ohhh, it’s so good to see you again.”

Casey hastily put Mary down to greet Crystal’s light embrace and friendly peck on the cheek.

“Hello, Crystal. It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, too long. You know, my dear, you haven’t changed a bit! When I came through your office and saw you weren’t there, I actually thought that perhaps you no longer worked for Britt. And what a pity that would be!”

Casey inwardly cringed at her sickly sweet voice. Crystal had been one of Britt‘s more serious college flames. She was cool and serene, his Ice Queen. Except for a jealousy streak so hot it could burn. Casey had felt it long ago. They were just kids, then. Young adults in name but not spirit. Catty children fighting over things and people they thought of as theirs and no one else’s. Casey learned her lesson then: her own torch for Britt burned too bright . Bright enough for Crystal to feel and burn her in return. Thankfully, Britt had been too preoccupied to notice then. So she learned to dim it for herself and no one else. It was her torch to carry. Lately, though, she noticed it was becoming harder to control. Her return only aggravated it.

Another thing hadn’t changed: her insistence on calling Casey by her given name. Casey didn’t dislike ‘Lenore‘. She just felt it was too old, and stuck up for her. It had been her Grandmother’s name and had, of course, fit her well. Everyone who knew Casey had immediately set about calling her by her nickname once they’d heard it. But not Crystal. Whether it was a pointed jab at the other woman or not, she refused to call Casey by any other name. She said it sounded so sophisticated, so French. And all Casey could to was grin and bear it.

“No, I’m still here.”

Crystal laughed and patted her hand. “And we’re so glad of it, too. Right, Britt?”

“Of course.” Casey saw him flash her a look that tried to apologize for Crystal. She shook her head. It’s not your fault, Britt. I can take it, don’t worry.

Crystal moved to John and Mary. When she smiled down at them, John only glared back. “These two dears are in desperate need of new clothing and good food. How about it, John? Would you and your sister like to go shopping and have lunch with me?”

John shot a look up at Casey, almost saying that he too, was sorry. Then one to Britt. “Just as long as Mr. Reid comes too.”

That surprised Britt. Yet it was music to his ears. A dent in little John’s armor? A start at least. “Of course he’s coming. I’ve brought Bridgett along with me as well. You three will have a splendid time together!”

“…Okay. I guess we can go.”

“Good!” She spun around to Britt. “Majority rules, Britt.” Britt hesitated then nodded. “Majority rules. Just give me a few moments, Crystal. I’ve got to take care of some last minute things. Then I’ll go. Ms. Case?

“Yes, Mr. Reid?”

“Get Axford for me, will you? And make sure he has his camera with him.”

Casey nodded and left the office. Moments later, Axford appeared alone. Casey had stayed out in her office, fiddling around at her desk. John looked out the window to her, while Crystal tried to engage him in conversation. He, of course, ignored her. The rich lady was annoying, loud. Unlike his mother. He cringed every time she opened her mouth. But with Casey…. He saw her look up and give him a smile. A sad smile, he thought. John returned it, then turned to Crystal, completely hardened against her.

“You weren’t talking to me, were you?” He asked, cutting her off rudely.

Her mouth stopped moving and that happy mask of hers went rigid.

“John, Mary, over here. I’m going to have Mike take a picture of us together.” Britt’s call saved him from a tongue lashing he was sure to give and receive. He took his sister’s hand and went over to Britt, who was sitting behind his desk again.

“Take a picture of us? Why?”

“We‘re going to run a story on you two. If not tomorrow, then the next day. I’m going to try to help figure out where you came from. If someone who knows you, sees a picture of you in the paper, maybe they’ll call with information."

John felt himself go cold. No. No, he couldn’t. Maybe Jack didn’t read the Sentinel. Maybe he didn’t read the paper anymore. No, of course he did. John could remember the big man screaming at him or his mother every time the paper wasn’t waiting for him when he got home. If he saw their pictures…they were as good as dead. He pulled her closer and began a slow backing away from Britt and Axford.

“I…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Britt screwed up his face. “No? I think it is. I’d like to know what happened to you kids. I want to help you. Getting the public involved is the best possible way I know how.”

No you don’t. You want to stay as far away from the truth as possible. You may be a dope, but I’d kinda hate to see you dead.

“Please, Mr. Reid. Can’t we do this some other time? Later.” Britt stood and went to him, putting his arm gently around John’s shoulders. When the boy didn’t object, he let it settle enough to lead him and his sister to the desk.

“C’mon. It’s just a quick picture. Don’t tell me you’re camera shy?” No. Just gun-shy.

John wanted to pull away. Britt’s hold on him was too strong. He couldn’t believe how strong it was…stronger than the Big Jack’s even. He shivered. If he never felt Big Jack Rickert’s hold him ever again, it would still be too soon. Britt settled back in his chair, his arm around John’s thin shoulders. Mary still sucked her thumb. There was nothing he could do about that. John wouldn’t let him get close enough to her to even attempt to pull the finger away.

“Say cheese.” Axford said as he aimed the camera.

\---

The shopping bags were stacked expertly in the trunk and back seat. John and Bridgett had alternately been at each other’s throats and talking quietly between themselves. Mary was oblivious to it all. Britt had learned that Crystal had hired a nanny for her sponsor the very night of the Gala. He’d also seen how starved the red-head was for attention when she leaped from the car and bear-hugged him to the best of her ability. Now, they were taking up two tables at an outdoor café in the shopping district of the city. Up and down both sides were small but expensive boutiques, shops and cafés.

Britt had hardly step foot in this part of town as Britt Reid, but more as the Green Hornet. It was a preverbal gold mine for any crook in want of a quick, but juicy steal. The jewelry store he had been shot coming out of was a few streets away. “You look like you’re miles away from here. Is there anything wrong?”

Crystal’s voice and touch brought him out of his reverie. Her hand was warm and smooth on his. A quick, reassuring smile on his end was sufficient. “Of course. It’s been a long day already.”

“You started work too early, that’s why. I was always thought you were a noon to five man instead of a nine to five.”

He chuckled. “That’s me. Today, though, I just wanted to get the paper and _do_ something.”

He looked to the children’s table, where the nanny was again trying to separate John and Bridgett. “I don’t know what happened to him or his sister. I know it was traumatic.” He looked back to Crystal. “He’s like a spurned adult in an innocent child’s body. A boy doesn’t get like that on his own---it’s forced on him by circumstances we couldn’t possible understand. Well, maybe one I can.” he added softly.

Her hand came down on top of his again and gently squeezed it. “A knight in shining armor--that’s you, you know that? You were always like that, though. You would try to help anyone who asked for it. Even if it meant getting into trouble yourself. That part of you is still there, at least. Not many remain from that young college kid Britt Reid I remember.”

He grinned. “Have I really changed that much?”

She shrugged, playing with the hair on the back on his hand. “Not so much that I don’t recognize you. But I’ll probably need a closer look. Walk with me.” She stood up, holding her hand out to him.

“But what about the children?”

“Patty will watch them. That’s what I hired her for.”

He looked over to the table to see John staring at him. He half-smiled but John again looked away, almost disgusted. He couldn’t pin the boy’s actions down at all. Britt took Crystal’s hand and the walked down the avenue, arm in arm.

“Do you think you’ll find anything on your two sponsors? I mean, with plastering their pictures everywhere?”

“I hope to.”

“It’s just that it seems to me that if they were in the Orphanage to begin with, doesn’t that mean that there was no one left to care about them?”

“Not necessarily. They could be runaways. There’s lots of reasons.”

Crystal shrugged. “I just think you’re making much ado about nothing.” Britt stopped walking and made her stop too.

“What do you mean, I’m making much ado about nothing? These kids aren’t ‘nothing’, Crystal. They’re completely alone in this world for one reason or another. It could be a very dangerous reason at that. The Orphanage can only do so much for them before their resources dry up. When they’re eighteen, if they haven’t been adopted by then, they’re turned out on the streets to fend for themselves.

"To get a job with the meager education the State afforded them while they were part of the system. If no one cares to do something about it now, then our future is doomed because these kids are doomed. I’m only trying to do my bit. I have the money, I have the resources that the Orphanage sadly does not. It’s the least I can do.”

Crystal looked his face over before continuing forward, her arms still linked around Britt’s.

“One other thing is still there, then. Your noble sense of justice. I thought it had been torn apart when your father….” She didn’t say the rest.

“No, it’s still there. Probably stronger now than it ever was.”

“I didn’t mean to insult it, then. It’s just that you…are not like the others. Even now. The people in our social circles, the people we went to school with. It often shocked, but yet was so refreshing. I suppose that’s why I fell for you.” She stopped again and went around the front of him. Snaked her arms around his neck and leaned against him.

“So…there’s one thing I have to know is still there.”

“What’s that?”

“This.” Her lips met his and in an instant, fireworks clouded his mind. Sparks of electricity ran up and down his spine. What seemed like an eternity was really only a few moments before they pulled apart and Crystal took a long, steadying breath.

“Is that answer enough for you?” he asked.

She couldn’t find her voice so she merely nodded. “Good. I’m always glad to oblige a lady.” he said, grinning. “Come on, we better be going back. I have work to do still at the office.”

His arm rested on the small of her back as they walked back. Crystal fit snuggly against him, head almost on his shoulder as they went. When John saw them approaching, a scowl rested firmly on his face. He resisted Britt’s attempt to ruffle his hair and dodged Crystal’s hand when she tried to put in on his head. The nanny was having trouble with Bridgett, who was clearly getting sick of John’s biting remarks every time she tried to talk to him. Before, he’d at least listen and respond nicely until realizing caustic comebacks suited him better. Now she couldn’t even get that!

When Bridgett descended into a crying mess because of it on the way back to the car, Britt grabbed John’s arm. “Excuse us, will you?” he asked Crystal brusquely before pulling John off to the side.

“What is with you?” he demanded. “I get the hard guy demeanor. I get it. But I don’t get the snide comments and the rude treatment of Crystal or Bridgett. Or me for that matter. So what’s wrong? Tell me.”

“Nothing.” John snapped, his eyes flashing. “Nothing is wrong expect I didn’t ask for this. It was you who decided to play hero, not me. I don’t do the rich life like you or your girlfriend. I’m just a poor little orphan, remember?”

He pulled his arm out of Britt’s grasp and ran back to the car. He shoved his way into a seat, eliciting a harrumph from the nanny. Britt dropped his hand and shoved both into his pockets as he went to the car. Score one for John. None for Britt.

\---

Instead of going back to the office, Britt had them dropped of at the apartment instead. He’d work the rest of the day from home. John stomped in with his sister and immediately went to their room and slammed the door shut. Britt, however, lingered outside with Crystal while her driver brought their shopping bags into the house.

“Tonight, my place. I’ll cook you dinner.” she offered.

Britt shook his head. “No, I think we’re going to stay in tonight. John’s hardly in the mood for me to leave him here with Kato. I wouldn’t want to do that to either of them. Besides,” he reached in to tousle Bridgett’s head. Her tears had dried, leaving a sullen expression that brightened considerably under his touch. “I think somebody has dibs on you ahead of me.”

Crystal’s face fell and she leaned back, her infamous pout coming on. “I’ll take a rain check, how’s that?”

“Well…I suppose.” She leaned against the car door and pulled down to her by his collar. She kissed him again. “I’m holding you to that---don’t keep me waiting too long!” Britt stepped back from the car as it pulled away. He went back in and shut the door behind him. Kato was waiting.

“Any reason why John refuses to come out of his room? Or let me in to drop off these bags."

Britt shrugged and took off his suit jacket. “I don’t know. He was fine at the office---more than fine. He’s taken quite a shine to Casey. Let her pick Mary up and carry her around. I can’t even get within an inch of her! Then when Crystal showed up, he completely changed. Hardened right up. The only chink in the armor I saw was when he asked for me to come along on our little shopping/lunch outing.”

The phone rang then and Kato answered. “Britt Reid’s residence. Oh yes…tomorrow? At three? Okay. Yes, I will inform him. Thank you for calling. Bye.”

“Who was it?”

“The Orphanage. A nurse will be out here tomorrow at three to discuss those two’s case.” Britt flopped down on he couch and stretched his legs.

“Just in time for the evening edition. Whatever I get from the Orphanage, I’ll put in the paper. See what we get.”

The door buzzer sounded as Kato went to try the guest bedroom door once more. He answered that instead. Quiet the entire day and now everyone’s calling or coming at once….

“Hello, Ms. Case.”

Britt brought his head up from the couch back and looked over his shoulder as Casey came in. “Oh, Casey. What brings you here?”

“I…I thought when you didn’t come back to the office, you’d gone home instead. You probably had a long day.”

“Yeah. You…you could say that.” He stood and she came further into the apartment, sitting near the couch in one of his lounge chairs. From her purse, she took out a folder of photographs. “I brought the prints from today. See which one you wanted printed.”

He took it and shuffled through the bunch. Each the same photograph of him, John and Mary in his office. He smiling, John sulking and Mary sucking her thumb. A fine troupe they made.

“Make sure you tell Mike the article is a go for tomorrow night. The nurse is coming tomorrow to spell out their case for me. Any information I get, I’ll put in the article. Within reason, of course.”

“Of course. Speaking of which…where are John and Mary?” She asked, looking around. Britt looked up for the photos and smiled. “You like them, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. They’re so sad…so much older than they should be. I guess it’s just the…the…” She wanted to say ‘mother’s touch’, but looking at Britt and thinking that at the same time caused the words to become lost. She never thought of it before. Just liked she only dared to dream of being with him one day. Having children with Britt. A flush of pink tinged her cheeks.

“Woman’s touch?” he finished for her.

“Yes, that.”

“Well, you see…we had a clash of personalities today. It seems John doesn’t like Crystal while Bridgett adores him but he can’t stand her. So he continually insults her while glaring daggers at me as I talk to Crystal.”

He sighed and shook his head. “ Instead of returning to the office, we came back here for the night. First thing John did when we got home was take his sister and himself into their room and slam the door. Kato can’t get him to come out or open the door so he can put their new clothes in there with them.”

Casey saw the bags bunched up outside the door, waiting for someone to do something with them. She silently applauded John’s apparent choice in woman. The boy wasn’t stupid or blind. He was also a good judge of character.

“Well, boys will be boys, you know. I’m sure you threw your fair share of tantrums.”

Britt looked up, mock hurt on his face. “Me? Never! I was a good little boy. I didn’t pull all the girls’ hair and I think I only got into one or two fights and….”

Casey laughed. “Stop it. I bet you were a real terror!”

Britt stood and went to her. “What about you? Did you terrorize all the boys or were you a good little girl?” He was suddenly so close to her. She dropped her eyes. “Oh…you know. Little girls like to have fun.”

“…Hi, Casey.” John stood in the doorway of his room, apparently watching them with great interest. He didn’t have his sister with him for a change.

“Hello, John! I heard you had a busy day.” He dropped his chin, acting very much little a shy, normal ten year old boy as he went to her. Another miracle.

“Yeah. Yeah, we did.”

“New clothes too?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“I’d like to see them. Is that okay?”

“I dunno. If you want to. Mary’s asleep in the bedroom right now. She’ll get up for dinner. Maybe…maybe if you stayed for dinner, I could show you after? Mary will be up then.”  

Casey looked back to Britt. “How about it? Can I?”

“Who am I to say no?”

\---

John slid under the covers. Tonight he was fully able to enjoy the silky warmth of the sheets. This time with the added bonus of real cotton pajamas! Not threadbare rags. He plumped his pillow and flopped against it. He had to hand it to this Reid guy, though. He knew how to live. He had heard about this life…his mother would tell him bedtime stories. Working as a counter girl in several department stores had opened her eyes to the other half. She opened his…but every time she talked about it, this bitter edge would be in her voice towards the end.

She always thought she could have done something if she had been given a chance. She had quit her last department store job when Big Jack came along. Because the guy fed her a line a mile long. Business ventures up the ying-yang. People who knew people who knew people. A credible hook on something big. The guy was a dockworker. Fish guts and sea salt in his veins. A bum. An ass. A murderer.

If his mother had only gotten a chance. The kind Casey had. Secretary to a nice big shot who cared. Try as he might, the guy’s angle still wasn’t coming to him. So he was nice. Dimwitted for sticking around that rich dame but well-meaning. Hated to admit, but John was kind of getting soft on Reid. Ah well. Somebody knocked softly on the bedroom door.

“John? Are you asleep?”

“No. No, come in.”

The dark room was briefly illuminated from the outside light as Britt stepped in. John shot a look to Mary, but the girl was fast asleep. The tip of her thumb was still in her mouth. Britt had his dress shirt unbuttoned at the top and the sleeves rolled up.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Britt sat on John’s side of the bed. “Tired?” John shrugged and drew his knees to his chin.

“I dunno. I’ll sleep eventually. Just tryin’ to relax still.”

“Nervous about something?” John shrugged again.

Britt dropped it and picked up a new thread. He treaded carefully. “You surprised me today.” John brought his head up.

“What? That I gave your girlfriend the brush? Meh. Not hard. She gets things once they’re spelled out.”

Britt wasn’t sure to be angry or amused at that comment so he chose to disregard it. “Oh, well actually…I was talking about you and Ms. Case. You like her, huh?”

“M’yeah, I guess.”

“You must…you let her hold Mary. That’s something, right?”

“She’s nice, that’s all. And…and…” Britt leaned toward him. “And what?”

“…She reminds me of somebody.” “Oh? Who, if you don’t mind me asking?”

His eyes flashed then. “I do mind, actually.” He tucked his knees farther under his chin and encircled his arms around them. “Who was that portrait of in your office?”

“My father. James Reid. I didn’t think you’d notice.” John rubbed his chin with his knuckles. “While what’s-her-face and Casey were facing off today…”

“John, her name is Crystal Monahan.”

“Whatever. I saw it then. I just wanted to know who it was.” He hazard a look to Britt. “Um…he looks like a fun old guy. Can…can I meet him?” Britt chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Fun isn’t the first word I think of when I think of him. Gruff is more like it. Still, I wish you could. But you can’t, sadly.”

“…Why?”

Britt’s hand fell away from his shoulder and back into his lap. His strong, thick arms folded themselves across his chest. “He’s dead.”

His grip on his knees loosened. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. My dad was pretty remarkable. He was born at the turn of the century. Served in the Great War. When he got out and came back…he saw the country had carried on while he’d been stuck overseas. It was like that for all returning soldiers. He saw how tough it was going to be to fit it again. No one was going to help him, so he’d have to help himself.

“Got some fellow veterans together and scraped enough money together to start a small paper out of his apartment. They called it The Sentinel because they wanted to be a kind of guardian, a protector watching out for guys like him. The downtrodden, those who were on their own.”

Britt noticed himself slipping into talking to John like he was an adult. It seemed so natural. More than that, the boy understood.

“He always gave interested soldiers the first call for reporting jobs. And he always printed the truth, no matter how hard it was to tell. He wasn’t about to give anybody the runaround when he’d been given it himself. He was among those who wondered why American men were fighting a European war but was never able to get a straight answer.

“By the time the Depression hit, the Sentinel was now the Daily Sentinel and having a rough time because of the fact it told only the truth. People didn’t want to hear how bad it was but my father refused to change or go back on his ideals. Others appreciated this and stayed with it. He came out of it older and wiser. Met my mother during this time. After I was born, she wanted him to slow down. Let the paper run itself. He wouldn’t, not with the war and our own problems here.”

Britt stopped talking then. He cursed himself for letting the past get the best of him. What done was done. It shouldn’t hurt the same as it did when it first happened. Oh, but it did hurt. Like a redhot dagger stuck right through his heart. A bullet had given him the taste of such burning pain but this…this hurt on all levels.

“My father wasn’t around as much as he should have been. He knew it…we all did. I think if he had been around more I…wouldn’t have been so wild. I was bad, John. A rich kid whose father didn’t seemed to care and a mother who…tried her best. I thought the world owed me everything. So I rallied against it. I went to college because that’s what was done but…I partied harder than I studied. I chased all the girls, played all the sports. When I got out, I was no more refined than I was when I left.

“I was ready to go on like that forever. No responsibility, no job, just fun.” Britt dropped his chin and shook his head ruefully. John leaned forward, intent on haring the rest. Because there had to be more.

“Something must have happened for your dad to be gone and the Sentinel yours. What was it?”

Britt lifted his head and his shoulders squared themselves. His eyes met John’s in the darkness. The boy saw the glint in them. Sad, but bitter. Hard but trying to soften. Forgivness was still a soured thought. He knew this must be the same look he carried. Living embodiment was right there for him to see. He suddenly realized why Britt had helped him. He did understand.

“You run a paper built on truth and justice and you’re going to make enemies out of those who believe in the opposite. I have and so did my father. Times were different for him, though. The gangsters and racketeers, the enemy agents. It was a lot easier for them to operate than it is now. Their reach was farther and more encompassing. The police fought back of course, but not like today.

"My father wanted to stop the crime, stop the corruption. He couldn’t." Britt’s voice took a sharp edge. As sharp as the glint in his eye.

“My father was framed, John. By a racketeer named Glen Connors. He claimed he had proof my father had aided and abided the very criminals he had crusaded against. Threw his entire weight into the case.” He shook his head.

“I never saw my father cry until the day they sentenced him to prison. He didn’t make it. His heart gave out the next day. He died a lonely, broken man. And suddenly the Sentinel was mine. The family too. My mother died the next year. Another victim. I had no forgiveness then. I’m learning it still. Responsibility too. The Sentinel has been good to me, it was good to my father. I can’t blame it for causing his downfall. I won’t.”

John rubbed his chin against his knee, considering the story and why he had told it. “What happened to Connors? Did they get him?”

Britt gave a little smile. “You could say that. He’s where he belongs.”

“Good. At least there’s a kinda happy ending to it.” Britt unfolded his arms and stood. “Kind of. I hope you understand now…that I’m only trying to help. I saw in you what others saw in me when my father died. I want a happy ending for you.”

John looked up at him, seeing him differently. He unfolded himself and stretched his legs out. “So…truce?” Britt’s hand appeared. Waiting, hopeful. John looked down at it, remembered to just the night before when he wouldn’t even dream of taking this strangers hand in friendship. He had no reason to believe in it. Especially no reason to believe in Britt. Men like him don’t know his kind of life and its struggle. At least they shouldn’t. But this one did. John shook his hand. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask for, then.” He went around to Mary’s side and whispered good night to her. His hand barely brushed her forehead. He wasn’t sure if John had given him enough license with the truce so he didn’t push it. Britt went to the door and opened it. The outside light streamed in once more. He looked back to John.

“I had a great-uncle named John. John Reid. Remind me to tell you stories about him some time.”

“Okay.”

“Good night.” John stretched out under the covers, his arms folded under his head. The door shut softly. “…Britt.”

 


End file.
